The Challenge
by Gryngolet
Summary: In the summer between seasons 2 and 3, Derek forces Jackson to accept his place in the pack. Disciplinary spanking of a teenage beta by an alpha werewolf. Maybe very slight overtones of slash.


Jackson stepped through the door to his bedroom after his evening on the prowl. His blood was still singing from the chase, the literal chase of prey through the woods and the other kind, though that hadn't ended well. How was he supposed to know the chick had a boyfriend? She hadn't taken kindly to his suggestion that she dump the stiff and come home with him. His nose wrinkled at the sour smell of beer that clung to his t-shirt, and he pulled it off, glancing into the mirror and flexing out of unbreakable habit.

He fucking loved being a werewolf, loved the strength and speed and power, the way regular humans instinctively gave him a wide berth like he was something dangerous. He _was_ dangerous. He'd show them all. Screw Lydia – London would be full of girls as pretty or prettier, and way more sophisticated. He'd been angry at first when his parents had told him they were moving for his father's job. But last week Lydia had dumped him - "I don't even know who you _are_ anymore" - just because he preferred to spend his nights running, jumping, and climbing, using every one of his new powers to the fullest, over nights spent watching a chick flick followed by a _maybe_-to-third-base necking session on the couch. Ever since then he'd been looking forward to the move. He needed a fresh start, with no-one around him who knew he'd been the kanima, and the things he'd done then He had only the vaguest memories of that time, of waking up tired and aching and filthy and not in his bed. He'd been told he'd killed people, and knew it had been at the behest of first that freak-show Matt and then Gerard Argent, the creepy old dude who was Allison's grandfather and had briefly been the school principal.

He shook his head. None of that was his fault. He'd been controlled. He was goddamned tired of being controlled. First Matt and Gerard, then Lydia – now Derek Hale was trying to control him. Jackson had been able to duck him, mainly, getting the basics how to be a werewolf from Scott. Hale had his hands full, anyway, with little time to spare for his newest wolfling. He and his weird uncle- and what was that about? He'd seen the dude _die_ - were trying to track down Erica and Boyd, the two loser werepuppies from his pack who'd disappeared the night Jackson had died and been reborn. Scott had told him he'd be stronger and safer as a part of Derek's pack, but Scott himself didn't seem too eager to join.

Jackson tensed, sensing the other presence in the room only a second before Derek stepped forward into the light. He covered his unease with his usual method, a pissy remark. "Dude, wear a bell. And how the fuck did you get into my house?"

The alpha regarded Jackson calmly.

"You've been avoiding me, Jackson. Not wise. I was willing to give you time to adjust, but you're getting sloppy. You nearly changed in front of that girl who dumped her drink on you – yes, I was watching. Your eyes went gold. You were lucky she didn't notice. And I've been standing right in front of you ever since you walked in here all preoccupied with your petty teenage love life, but you were too keyed up and busy studying your reflection to even sense me. If I'd been one of the pack that got Erica and Boyd I'd have knocked you out before you knew you weren't alone."

"Hunters?" Jackson's pulse quickened.. Allison's family scared the shit out of him. Too many visions and half-understood memories came back in his dreams. How urgently the new wild part of him had sought a master, and how right and complete he had felt when he was doing what he was told to do. Again, he shook the uncomfortable thoughts from his head.

"Not the Argents. Other wolves- alphas. You're not safe on your own – neither is Scott."

"Yeah, well being a part of your precious pack doesn't seem to have helped the other two."

Derek's eyes flashed red as he stepped closer, and Jackson took an involuntary step back, not quite able to suppress the whimper that wanted to be a cringing whine. The wall behind brought him up short, and Derek continued forward, too close, getting into his personal space,

"I'll find them. I'll keep you safe. I'll teach you what you need to know. And you don't have a choice. I'm out of patience."

"But – but what about McCall? He's on his own, an omega."

Derek's smile was no less chilling for being slightly rueful. "Scott's no omega. He's a beta who hasn't accepted his alpha yet. That's okay – I didn't bite him, he can choose whether to accept me or not, though he'll have to in the end. You, I bit. You _begged_ me to bite you. You have no choice."

Maybe it was because Derek was in human form, his eyes back to their usual hazel, or maybe the memory of being the pet monster of anyone who chose to use him was too close to the surface for Jackson to ignore, but he heard words coming out of his mouth that he couldn't remember forming the intention to say, even as bloodlust and a suicidal combative streak had him changing, the fangs distorting the words into a roar.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'll be an alpha. I was there the night you killed your uncle. I know how a beta can become an alpha!"

He leaped at Derek, roaring his challenge. He'd known before he ever moved that he was going to lose, but he was unable to stop himself, the untamed werewolf side of his nature taking control of the terrified human brain. Derek was suddenly not there, and then Jackson went spinning from a blow that seemed to come from nowhere, pain hot and sharp across his side from the claws that had raked him. Suddenly he was on his back, gasping for air with Derek's boot on his neck.

Derek's eyes were red, his fangs partially extended. He controlled himself with an effort, letting the teeth retract. Instinct told him to kill the challenger, but he clamped down on the urge, reminding himself that Jackson was just a stupid kid who'd been through a hellish few weeks recently. Jackson was Derek's beta, a member of his family, and he needed to be disciplined, but not badly hurt . Derek needed every beta now, and he needed to send a message to Scott that Derek could be trusted to lead them all. He thought back to how his parents had sometimes dealt with errant younger members of their pack, human and were, and had an idea. Of course what he was thinking of was usually reserved for kids much younger than the teenager at his feet, but if you made allowances for how recent Jackson's transformation was, he was really little more than a cub. And he would heal quickly and thoroughly enough to allow Derek to make the lesson count.

He looked down. Jackson was shaking, his eyes shut, clearly expecting to be maimed or killed for his audacity. Derek didn't need to roar or beam red alpha eyes at him – the kid could hardy be more scared than he already was, He took his foot off the boy's neck and leaned down to grab him by the throat, pulling him up to his feet and then his toes as Derek brought his face close.

"Try again in five years, boy, if you live that long," he said quietly. He smiled his creepy feral smile. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you. I'm gonna show you how an alpha deals with a challenge from a foolish cub."

He tossed the kid down onto his bed, unfastening his belt and sliding it from the loops. He wrapped his palm securely around the buckle end and played the length out, flicking it in the air like a whip. Jackson's body jerked at the muted crack, but he made no sound.

Derek doubled the leather, leaving a thick loop about a foot long. He moved to the side of the bed, placing a hand, claws out but not digging in, on Jackson's back to hold him down. He brought the belt down hard, once, twice, three times, on the seat of the kid's pants, the denim no protection against his supernatural strength. Jackson jerked at each blow, muffling the sounds he was making in the bedding. Derek paused.

"You do what I tell you I'm the alpha. I'm stronger, smarter, and older. You give me obedience, and you get protection. You maybe learn enough to stay alive. Do you understand?"

"Yeah! I mean, yes sir! I do! Please, no more!"

"I'm not sure you do." He brought the belt down again, just as hard but slower now, punctuating each pause in what he said with another blow. "You always know the right thing to say, don't you? [whap!] Good looking rich kid, [whap!] sports star, [whap!]book smart [whap!], and you think you can charm [whap!]your way out of every tight place." Derek tossed the belt aside and pulled the kid up, forcing him to look his alpha in the eyes.

"The Argents don't care that you're pretty. The alpha pack doesn't care that you're rich. You need to use your senses, control your power, and learn to fight. I know you're going to London at the end of the summer. That gives us six weeks to train. And you'll be back. You're part of my pack."

Jackson struggled to get himself under control. The stripes of searing pain on his ass were already disappearing, welts healing themselves in minutes that would have lasted for weeks if he had still been only human. The cuts on his side from Derek's claws would last longer, and they burned, but neither pain was the reason for his tears. It was the realization of what he had to do now, and how right it would feel, that unmanned him. He turned his head to the side, chin tilted down, and offered his vulnerable throat to the stronger beast in a gesture older than humanity._ I submit to you and ask your mercy. You can tear my throat out if you choose_ . Derek went full alpha, eyes and hair and teeth, and closed his jaws over Jackson's neck. He bit down gently, just hard enough to the dimple the skin, then the smallest bit harder, drawing points of blood that healed immediately but cemented the bond.

Derek rumbled deep in his chest, feeling the extra surge of power now that Jackson had accepted his role in the pack. The pack would hunt tonight, searching out traces of their missing brother and sister. His pack, his family, _would_ be whole again.


End file.
